The Boomer
by Wandering to her doom
Summary: I knelled down to the toilet, its toilet watering reflecting my reflection, I gulped and slowly stuck my two long and bony fingers down my throat.


_**A little story about the Boomer with a twist, I do not own left for dead.**_

Eating disorders, two little words that sums up a large variety of suffering whether it be binge, bulimic or anything else in between. Yes girls trying to look like a supermodel is might others might think when they hear the words "Eating disorder" but what about the guys? This often pondered my mind as I got up every morning to attend school. My radio clock blared some god awful mainstream pop song which led to me quickly get out of my comfortable bed and slam my hand on the button to turn it off. I sighed then yawn quickly tried since I haven't gotten much sleep the fallowing night before.

I blinked and pause for a moment rubbing the eye boogers…or what ever its call that gunk in your eyes, out of my eyes, I was always told I had my father eyes… I glace at the white walls which surrounded my room, I feel like I'm in one of those mental hospitals sometimes, like in one of those horror movies that takes place in a haunted hospitals with an insane doctors and there's plenty of people in straight jackets. I would had asked if I can paint my walls a different color like an crisp apple red or a light sky blue or maybe even an dawning sunset orange but I wasn't worthy of colors, at least not yet.

I got reached over for a pair of dark blue jeans and a maroon colored sweater, the only thing that decently fits me and by that I mean barely.. Which clearly means I must have went down a size or two. With this though a smile spreads across my face as I race up to the mirror and quickly take off my shirt, my normal pasty white boy's chest stared back at me. I smiled even bigger seeing that two of my rib cage bones seem to be sticking out more than last week. I would had squealed like a schoolgirl if I could, getting to where I am wasn't easy with the temptation of food but I managed.

"BRUCE! BREAKFEST IS READY!" called my brother as I groaned.

Yes as if my weight loss wasn't hard enough to do with the temptation of food but of course my family just had to make it harder for me.

"I'm not hungry!" I called back weakly hoping she would believe that.

"Oh no you don't breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" she roared as I sighed slipping my clothes back on and mournfully made my way to the dreaded kitchen table. "I made your favorite." My mother said cheerfully a warm smile on her motherly plump face, I held back the urge to sigh. Great, just great!

"Thanks…" I muttered trying to sound cheerful for hers sake, she's a good mother really and a really nice person but truthfully you wouldn't have guessed I'm her son…let alone related to the rest of my family. Everyone on my mother's and father's side always been obese, my grandparents my great grand parents, my great, great grandparents and so on and son on, Some say its in our genes but I disagree, I never once learn about the fat gene in biology or whatever class your suppose to learn about genes in, I was never much of a science person. Like I was saying everyone in my family is overweight, my mother, my father, my two older brother, Garret and Gabe and soon to be my little sister Heather who is currently seven months, as for me I'm a stick, clearly not a meaty jock or a fat loser I'm just a toothpick bodied boy. I watched as Garret and Gabe wolfed down strips of fatty greasy bacon, stacks of pancakes, forkfuls of scrambled eggs and fried ham slices. I swallow the spit in my mouth as my mother hands me a white plate.

"Help yourself!" she beamed happily tucking a loose lock of her red hair behind her ear before turning around to cook up more pancakes. I sighed quietly then stared at the vast amount of food set before me. I felt like vomiting at the very sight of all deep fried meats and sugary pancakes, to my relief I noticed a small bowl of diced tinned tomatoes. That's just how nice and thoughtful my mother is, she has four kids to look after two of which hates veggies but takes the time to buy a tin of tomatoes for her middle child. I gather up a few small spoon full's, the smallest fried egg and just to make my mother happy I even have a strip of fatty greasy bacon. She works long hours but makes us breakfast in the morning without ever being asked to and without help. I bite into a piece of tomatoes, luckily my brothers don't plan on showering this morning so I'll have the bathroom to myself if mom doesn't need to.

"Your nothing but skin and bones, your never make the football team if you stay that way!" My brother Garret snarled at me as he offered me a plate of fried ham. I shook my head and decline the offer, no way! One strip of bacon as enough grease as I was going to eat even if I didn't plan on digesting it, I hated the feeling of feeling full, I feel gross and disgusting with myself, and don't get me started on how much just a little food can make you bloat. "Fine." He grumbled then shoveled around round of ham into his mouth. If my counts are correct they already eaten over a thousand calories, and its only breakfast!

"Bruce, dear once you're done I need your option about something." She asked as my eyes lit up, this only meant one thing; she was going to let me see a painting she was working on! My Mom loves to paint, and I do to but I'm nothing compared to her she puts so much life into each brushstroke, its like magic and she's the fairy godmother. And she never lets us see a painting until it's done, not like my brothers care and my little sister is to young to understand art but I guess I'm just lucky I got the art gene from her.

"Sure!" I said at once quickly finishing off my breakfast and rushing to a spare bedroom where she did her art hobby.

"Slow down sweetheart." She chuckled, Jesus I must look like a child on Christmas waiting to open their gifts from Santa but I can't help it, I love art, I want to be an artist one day and paint just like her.

She digs into her pocket and pulls out a silver key and unlocked the brown wooded door, once she turns the knob my eyes widen at a cartoon content, the room walls are white and the floor is wooden but surrounding the walls are canvas after canvas of paintings and spilled paint. A wide grin spreads across my face as we step inside, I feel beyond giddy my mom never lets anyone inside not me, not my brothers, not Heather and not even dad!

Her short and stubby finger points to a canvas.

"I wanted to get your thoughts on this painting." She states on sits her round rear in a small chair that looks as if it may break under her large amount of mass. "I can't decide what color I should paint the flowers at the left, any ideas?"

My hands tremble as I stared at the canvas, its an leafy tree surround by grass and a beautiful blue sky with pure white fluffy clouds. I swallow the spit in my mouth as I search for the right idea.

"P-purple violets might bring out the grass." I choke out in a stutter as she smiles at me and patted my head.

"I was thinking the same thing dear." She mused as she got up. "Hold this." She told me handing me the silver key to the room as we left the room. "Schools about to start, if you want to shower you best be doing that now." She informed me before she turned to leave.

"Wait! Your key-" I start to call but she turned around and smiled at me.

"Keep it, I got a spare and besides I hear its better to paint when your not lonely." She told me before walking off to clean up after my siblings.

My mouth hung open in shock before s grin started to spread across my face, I had access to my mother's art room, finally a place I could paint in peace without hearing heather cry, or Garret chucking water balloons are me and even no Gabe pestering me with food…just me, my mother and our art.

I glanced at the clock and snapped out of my dream-like state, art could wait meanwhile I have to get rid of breakfast, I dashed into the bathroom and close the white door locking myself in, I remember last time Garret almost walked in my me while I tried to get rid of a slice of chocolate cake with ice cream I had on Heather's birthday. I sighed and turned on the showering blocking out the gagging noises I would soon be making once I started my two finger tango. I kneed down to the toilet, its toilet watering reflecting my reflection, I gulped and slowly stuck my two long and bony fingers down my throat, going deeper and deeper. Of course I felt guilty my mother spend so much time to create such a meal for her children and for it to go to waste like this? I'm not worthy to eat her cooking; I'm not worthy to share an art room with her. I made a small gag which was shortly fallowed by another gag them another in no time flat vomit pours from my mouth and into the toilet bowl splashing water. I groaned in discomfort as the rest of what used to be breakfast was now completely emptied into the toilet. I panted as I flushed the toilet and rubbed my forehead, this ever gets easier so matter how many times I do it, it only seems to get harder and harder but I need this….

I slowly get up feeling weak in my knees, I cup my hands together and put them under the running water from the shower, the hot water fills up in my hands burning them slightly but I do not flinch, I bring the warm water to my lips and swish it around in my mouth removing the bitter taste of puke that was leftover. I spit the vomit tasting water into the sink and remove the rest of my clothes revealing more of my boney body. I couldn't help but think boastful thoughts about myself, I been working so hard to stay this way and not fall into my family's bad eating habits, so far I been doing great…but just to be sure…

I stepped onto a scale which laid untouched by my other family members as an array of numbers appear then slowly stops at one.

98.78

I held back the urge to yet out a gleeful cheer, finally I was out of the hundreds! That was my goal for so long! Now I finally reached it! Glee rushed through my veins as I step into the warm shower which I could really use after a puking as well as brushing my teeth, puking is gross but not as gross as eating a double bacon cheeseburger and just letting something so greasy sit in your stomach.

After I finished washing up I grabbed my backpack and left the room and started the walk to school, The walk is a bit of a long one but it burns a decent amount of calories in case I didn't vomit up the rest of breakfast…well that and I find the other students on the bus are too loud and rowdy for my taste I prefer quietness and calmness rather than yelling and a chance of spitballs landing on me. I passed a few older groups of people who were exchanging dialog here and there about weather, shopping and going out for drinks at locals bars which served deep fried foods but a certain bit of dialog catch my attention.

"I heard Sammy got it." Said a man with light brown hair that was slowly fading to grey, "been puking so much he started to see blood in his vomit."

"Damn, heard Amanda's little girl…what's her name again Cassie?" asked a tall and slender man with a rather horse-like face.

"Cassidy, heard she been looking paler then usual." The fading haired man replied as I walked by.

"I hear puking blood is a sign, then pale skin oh and mood swings…" he added as I walked finally walked farther away from the two.

I walked up to a large grey bricked building, school. I sighed and looked at my watch and a slow smile crept on my face my favorite subject was first, a good way to start the day…

As you can guessed my favorite subject is art, I feel so free like a bird finally flying through the air after being caged for so long and getting its first taste of freedom in years. I made my way to the art room, it's tiny and a bit cramped but it's the most colorful room in the whole school, paintings surrounding each wall covering up the white painted walls its heaven in a hell-like school to me. Glancing at the clock I see that I am ten minutes early, just enough time to hopefully think about what to paint to start the day off right. I plopped myself on a wooden stool with a blank white canvas, I usually like to think for awhile about what to paint, I glance over at my art teacher, rather then call him by his last name he likes to be called by his first name James, he sat in a wooden stool on the other side of the room, him and my mother are really great artists but have different things they like to paint. My mother likes to paint floral and wildlife while James prefers to paint things that remind him of his Mi'kmaq culture such as fields of sweet grass being harvested or Native families in wigwams. **(A/N I a, currently taking Mi'kmag studies in high school and there is a difference between Teepees and wigwams.)**

"Early again?" he asked dipping his paintbrush into a mixture of yellow and red paint to create a fall orange color.

"Yeah..." I said quietly, he wasn't much of a talker really but he was an alright teacher, plus I was doing pretty damn good in his class, I don't take my eyes off the blank canvas still wondering what mixture of colors would bring out the beauty hidden within in. My long and bony fingers tap against my thigh, I really need to work on losing weight around my thighs they must be the largest part of my body right now.

He gives me a silent nod then goes back to work on his painting, I sighed then finally decide to just paint a tree in the wildness, maybe like my mom's but of course with my own touches, maybe a willow tree instead of a leafy green one…and maybe roses instead of violets…why not add a few ducks with there ducklings for a cuteness factor...Karen liked cute things… A goofy smile spreads on my face, Karen had got to be the most pretty girl in the whole school and not to mention the nicest! She doesn't start gossip, she never acts bitchy and best of all she likes art. With a face likes hers she looked as if she could be a model…or a goddess! We aren't really friends but she talks me in act since none of her friends are taking it…I don't mind being third wheel as long as I been with her.

I dipped my paint brush in a glop of baby blue paint and begin to work on the sky. The bell rings and soon the classroom is stampeded with teenagers who don't even need James to tell them what to do, he says we need to express ourselves through our own mediums rather then have him tell us what to do, so we basically get to create to our heats content in whatever we please, such as painting, drawing, clay, and even sewing a popular choice among the girls in our class even Karen.

"Hey…" greeted a sweet voice that belonged to no other than the goddess herself Karen Amber Anderson, my eyes shifted from my painting to her, I smile meekly and take a few seconds to truly gaze into her beauty as if she was a painting herself.

"Hey…" I greeted back as she pulled up a chair next to me.

"What cha working on?"

"Just a painting nothing much really." I reply as she takes a closer look at my painting so far.

"Christ your good at painting." She exclaims as I shrugged.

"Its nothing special really, I just based it off of one my mom did."

"Don't be so modest you're a great artist." She tells me as she digs into her pink book bag and pulls a candy bar made "Here, I got you something." She offers as I take the bar , my hand accidently touches her hand, her glamorous olive colored skin touches my pale dry whiter then an eggshell skin as I take the bar I almost flinched from just touching her like that.

"T-thanks." I stuttered nervously as she smiles brushing a lock of her wavy back hair behind her ear.

"I wish I was as good at painting as you were, All I can do is sew." She sighs sadly and looks at my paintings.

"You're better than you think, your already better than I was when I first started painting." I stated as I started on my painting again. "You already got really good at creating textures."

"Your have to give me lessons one day, my grandmother wants me to paint of picture me for her." She moaned. "No way I'll be good enough."

"I can paint you if you want!" I blurt out. Damn, I'm such a idiot sometimes! Why did I have to say-

"Really?" she asked her eyes widening with glee and delight as I clear my throat to avoid saying anything dumb.

"Y-yeah." I stutter. "I got plenty of free time and a room we could use if you want." I offer slowly- no quickly growing to the idea myself. Me and Karen, alone together in a room where no one but my mother could enter (Not like I would have to worry about her, she knows how hard it is to paint pictures of people) we could talk and get to know each other more, and I could paint her beautiful face….I felt like I could do a victory dance if I wasn't in public.

"This Tuesday good?" she suggests the date as I nod quickly.

"Y-yeah whenever you want!" I say pure energy in my veins, my finger felt so jittery and twitch this was a dream come true.

Eventually the long schools hours passed and I was once again in me and mother's art room where I was setting up art supplies for Karen's arrival, I picked out the most beautiful shades of paint that would be a worthy match for her skin…her skin always looked to soft and fresh, I was overjoyed that I got to touch her hand today! And why just stop at touching her hand? Maybe she'll let me run my finger through her wavy hair, or maybe just maybe if karma's on my side I'll be able to feel her pretty lips and taste the lip balm she wears.

Taste….

I remember the candy bar she gave me as I pull it out from my pocket, its some kind of chocolate coated, peanuts with caramel filling. I sighed she gave this to me…Karen gave me something…I can't eat this…one chocolate is full of calories and sugar and two it a waste…I never gotten something from a girl before I want to keep this, plus it will be a good way to practice will power and avoid eating the bar for the rest of my life. I can smell it, see it and feel it but I cannot taste it…I can treasure it though.

The first time Karen arrived my Brothers poked a little bit of fun at me and whispered dirty jokes about us being alone in the art room together but thankfully that didn't stop Karen from coming over, she also liked my baby sister Heather and says she wants kids of her own someday.

I don't really know if I see kids in my future, if I get married and have a wife and got her pregnant her belly would grow to revolting size and all kids want to eat is candy, chicken nuggets and other kinds of high calories foods and drinks... I shrugged and get her to seat down in a wooded stool and ask her to smile. And damn can she smile, she's like the modern Mona Lisa, her smile is sly yet there is happiness in it that shines through like a beam of sunlight bursting through the darkness of rooms and lighting the whole room up with its gleam.

"So how long have you been painting?"

"Since I was old enough to know not to eat paint." I joke…holy shit I made a joke…I made a joke to Karen! We both let out a small laugh as I returned to painting her. We kept our nice little routine throughout the school year, once or twice a week she would come over and we would talk and make jokes as I paint her, but it didn't stop there…other than paint we watched TV together, I showed her my other artworks, we learned we like the same kind of music and she learned I want to be a lawyer if an artist doesn't work out and she told me she wants to be a doctor like both her parents. It was perfect and to top it all off I lost another two pounds! Everything is going great, I'm losing more weight, I'm talking and laughing along to the most pretty girl in school its all going so well! Not even those god damn news stories about that flu are going to ruin this great school year!

…only real problem is my mother keeps bringing me and Karen snacks, chips, cookies, potatoes skins topped with cheese and bacon bits, cupcakes, baguettes topped off with thick fatty and sky high calorie full spreadable cheese…yet Karen eats it and stay in her perfect figure with her humble sized breast…Sadly she persuaded me to eat one or even two of whatever my mother was serving, of course shortly after I excused myself to use the bathroom to perform a the two fingered tango, no way I was going to let that crap ruin my weight loss! I was doing so damn good as well, I couldn't let myself get fat not even for Karen…

It was all going ever so well until that one day when Karen herself brought in a fruit tray of chocolate covered apples and strawberries which laid untouched on a another wooden stool.

"You don't eat much…do you?'

My heart froze did she noticed? Did she heard my vomiting?

"I'm just a light eater." I lied through my teeth as I then dipped my paint brush in a glop of brown paint. "I'm not really that hungry often."

"You sure look it, I can see your bones." She added then reached over for a tray of the chocolate fruit. "Here you could really use the calories."

"No thanks I'm fine." I assured her.

"Come on, just try one little strawberry." She urged as the sweet smell of chocolate drifted into my nose as if I was in a perfumed store and was being harassed by the workers who would always spray their samples onto you without asking.

"No, I'm fine…I…I can't".

'Damn it Karen just put the tray away…don't ruin this for me.' I begged in my head over and over again until she slammed the tray down in a fit of rage causing some of the apples and strawberries to fall onto the floor.

"Bruce, I know."

"Know what? That I'm not hungry?" I snarled grumpily as she glared at me her eyes no longer gentle and bright but with now they gleamed with bitterness.

"I mean I know you got an eating disorder."

I froze, how did she know?

"Look, I know it's a struggle…and that you must think no one understands what your going through-"

"Because they DON'T!" I spat angrily but she kept on going.

"But there are, my parents are both doctors and they been talking to your mother and they want to get you the help you need, there's tons of therapy and great doctors who can help you, trust me they helped me with my depression and-"

"I DON'T NEED HELP!" I roared causing both me and Karen to jump to our feet.

"Look…Bruce everyone is worried about you, your pale, your bones stick out and you look like death-"

"Better than being a fatass like everyone else in my family."

"Your family cares about you!"

"They also care about fried chicken so what?" I hissed as Karen gritted her teeth.

"The whole reason I came here is to help you! Everyone is so worried about you Bruce! Your starving yourself to death! Your sick and need help!"

"Wait…" I paused as it hits me, it all made sense…it was too good to be true after all…Karen the prettiest girl in the whole damn school of all the basketball jocks she could of fucked around with she choose the art nerd. "You mean you just fucking wanted to be with me to "help me!" " I shout in both shock and rage.

"No! Of course not!" she exclaims in shock. "Bruce, I really like you… but I can't sit here and watch you kill yourself!"

"Then leave." I say calmly getting up and opening the door.

"Bruce-"

"I mean it! Go! Get the hell out of here I don't give a damn!"

Her brown eyes water up as she runs of the room sobbing and choking on her cries…bitch. I look at my painting of her its no longer beautiful with her wavy brown hair or olive toned skin I just to rip it to shreds, burn it, spit on it I just want to destroy it! Rage and hatred runs though my veins as I picked up the painting and fling it across the room, causing it to become dented, That wasn't enough…I stomped out of me and my mother's art room and marched to my bedroom not even taking time to say hi to my mother as I pass her. Once in my room I dig through my drawers and pulled out the candy bar Karen had given me. To think I spend all this time swooning over a goddamn piece of shit chocolate bar she given me, holding it, sniffing it, looking at it just because I was in love with that bitch! I tear open the wrapping not even caring that the bar had looked aged and devour it without giving it a second though, it almost gone…

"Bruce, what's going-" My mother started but I dashed out of the bedroom shoving her aside and I make my way to the bathroom not even brothering to lock the door, I bent over and stick my two fingers down my throat and in no time flat the candy bar reappears as brown lumpy puke. "Bruce!" my mother exclaims, I don't even look up at her. "I'm calling the doctor…first thing in the morning your getting help!" she cries as I grunt flushing the toilet then leave for my bedroom.

Of course, take away part of me eh? Take away the rights to my body fattening me up until I'm the fattest man alive, till I'm a mirror image of my siblings and you and dad eh? That's the plan; spread the never ending fat genes!

That night I had a dream…I'm in bed sleeping in my clothes and my body starts to rapidly bloat, my stomach expands to a great mass and I feel the pimples I'm going to have from eating fast food all the time start to show. It's a night mare, I'm trapped in my own body…all this time…everyone I though was my friend was lying…Karen lied, my mother lied hell even my art teacher lied…everything's a lie…I want to wake up from this nightmare…everything turning orange I want to wake up from this dream…..but I can….vomit pours from my mouth onto my clothes which are barely fitting me right now.

'_Come on…wake up….just fucking wake up Bruce.'_

"Bruce, sweetie…get up." A light voice says slowly opening the door, I'm so hungry…she's do. "Bruce?" asked Tanya the mother of four she gasped in horror at the sight before for, her beloved son Bruce was no longer there…in his place stood a round white lumpy faced ghost pale creature. "B-Bruce!" Tanya cries as the newly formed Boomer gurgles.

She was not his mother….she was a target, Tanya screams of horror were drowned out as she was blinded by puke.

_**Did you like it? I wanted to try a new spin on The Boomer so please review and fave.**_


End file.
